


Now We Rest

by freyjaschariot



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 19:20:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18762823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freyjaschariot/pseuds/freyjaschariot
Summary: For the first time in her life, Arya Stark wished she was good at sewing. At least it would have given her something to do with her hands. Instead, she sat by Gendry’s bedside and polished the cat’s paw dagger over and over again until it gleamed brighter than the moonlight flooding through the room’s narrow window.Arya and Gendry reunite after the Battle of King's Landing.





	Now We Rest

For the first time in her life, Arya Stark wished she was good at sewing. At least it would have given her something to do with her hands. Instead, she sat by Gendry’s bedside and polished the cat’s paw dagger over and over again until it gleamed brighter than the moonlight flooding through the room’s narrow window.

Every now and again, her eyes flicked up to Gendry’s prone form. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, the bandages wrapped around his ribs peeking out from beneath the sheets. Moonlight turned his skin to cool marble, and yet Arya knew that if she reached out to touch him, he would burn hot beneath her hand.

Arya knew she ought to think about what she was going to say to him when he woke, that if she didn’t make a plan she would surely botch it. But ever since Jon and Davos had half carried, half dragged Gendry into the Keep, bloody, bruised, and unconscious, all Arya had been able to think was _He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive_. What came next was beyond her.

“You here to finish me off, then?”

Arya’s eyes darted up. Gendry smiled at her weakly from his pillows. Heart thudding in her chest, Arya slid the blade back into its sheath and laid it on the bedside table. “What makes you think I would let you off that easy?”

Gendry’s chuckle turned into a wince as the movement jostled his ribs. “I don’t suppose you would.” He extricated a hand from the blankets and dragged it down his face. “What happened? The last thing I remember is the Queen’s dragon flying overhead after we broke through the gates—”

“A section of wall collapsed on you. Jon pulled you out.”

“I’ll have to thank him. Though I suppose he won’t have much time for the likes of me now he’s king.”

“Kings have time for lords. You’re a lord.” Arya regretted saying it as soon as the words left her mouth. The last time they had talked of lords it hadn’t ended well. 

Gendry shook his head, staring up at the ceiling with a slightly incredulous look on his face. “Don’t think I’m ever going to get used to that.”

“You’d be surprised what a person can get used to.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

They fell silent. Arya watched a band of moonlight steal across the floor and up the wall, soundless as a thief.

Finally Gendry said, “Arya, the night of the feast—”

Arya cut him off. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

“Yes, we do. Because I have to apologize. I shouldn’t have ambushed you like that. I’d been drinkin’ and when the Queen named me Lord of the Stormlands… I may have gotten a little carried away.”

Arya raised an eyebrow. “A little?”

Gendry grimaced again, this time not from the pain. “It was like someone had taken over my body. All I could think was—finally I have a name. Finally, I’m _someone._ ”

“You were always someone to me.” The best someone. _My_ someone. 

“I know.” Smiling sadly, Gendry turned his face toward her. “I wasn’t completely out of my mind, though. I meant what I said about none of it mattering without you. I want to be with you, Arya—”

“Why?” The word fell out of Arya’s mouth before she could stop it. 

Gendry frowned. “Why? Because you’re brave and stubborn and _crazy_. And because you make me laugh and before I met you no one had ever looked at me like I was worth something, even without a name.”

Arya was silent so he hurried on. “If you don’t love me back, I understand. Say the word and I’ll never bring it up again. But if you don’t think you can be with me because I want you to be a lady and wear fancy dresses and stay at home and sing songs and sew—I know that’s not you. I knew it long before you ever told me. And we don’t have to live at Storm’s End. We could live at Winterfell or in some bloody shack in the woods somewhere, I don’t care so long as you—”

Whatever he meant to say next was lost as Arya caught his face between her hands, and pressed her lips to his. For a moment Gendry lay there stunned. Then he came to life beneath her, kissing her back, soft, then demanding, then soft again.

Finally, Arya pulled away. “You should keep Storm’s End,” she said.

Gendry’s face fell, the glazed over look bleeding from his eyes. He swallowed hard and nodded. “I understand.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “No, you idiot. You should keep it because we’ll need somewhere to live when we’re not traveling.” Gendry’s mouth fell open. “I don’t know if I want to be a wife,” Arya warned. “Maybe someday, but not now. If you’re alright with that—”

This time it was Gendry who kissed her first. “Yes,” he breathed. “Yes.”

When they broke apart. Arya raised an eyebrow. “People will talk, you know.”

“Let them.”

“They’ll say it isn’t right.”

“I don’t care.”

For the first time since she had left Winterfell with the Hound, Arya found herself smiling. Gendry pulled back the sheets and Arya crawled into bed beside him. She pillowed her head on his chest, careful to avoid the worst of his wounds. The soft _whoosh-whoosh_ of his heartbeat filled her ear.

“What do we do now?” Arya said.

Gendry’s arm tightened around her. “Now?” He sighed and closed his eyes, a smile playing around his lips. “Now we rest.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments inspire me to keep writing!


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